Tequila Mockingbird (Book 7) Page 2

  Edna thrust a handful of Roses at Agatha, and she barely kept them from drowning in her coffee.

  “They’re beautiful,” Agatha said. “I made some muffins. Would you like some?”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” she said, hefting her bulk on the stairs next to Agatha and crushing the roses. There was a scrape on her arm, and the blood was dry and flaky. “I haven’t had breakfast yet, and I worked up quite an appetite in the garden. I love to garden.”

  Agatha handed her the plate of muffins and said, “I’m really glad you stopped by. I enjoyed our conversation yesterday.”

  Edna bit into a muffin and then stared confusedly at Agatha. “You naughty thing. You know you’re not supposed to listen in on adult conversations. Your mother and I had a lovely chat yesterday, but we could have been talking about personal things. Even as a child you liked to know what was going on. Elaine always said you never let her get away with anything. Is your mother home today, dear?”

  Agatha had a hard time swallowing, and pity filled her. “No, Ms. Edna. She’s gone out today. Would you like me to clean up that scrape on your arm? Did it happen while you were cutting your roses?”

  Edna looked down at the scrape on her arm and frowned, and she rocked back and forth a little bit. “I don’t know what I did,” she said. “I should go home and put some Iodine on it before it gets infected.”

  “Why don’t I go with you and help you with that,” Agatha said.

  “You’re a sweet girl,” Edna said, patting her arm. “Make sure you tell your mama you’re coming over to my house. You know how much she worried the last time you came over, and she couldn’t find you.”

  “She knows,” Agatha assured her. She couldn’t recall spending time at Edna’s as a child. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been in her house.

  Agatha helped Edna to her feet and they walked across the yard to Edna’s little house. The front door was open, but the storm door was closed, and Agatha could hear the murmur of the television in the background. Darleen must have fallen asleep again.

  There was a little entryway, and the kitchen was immediately to the left and the dining room to the right. The house smelled of lemons and age, and the wallpaper was dated and had tiny yellow flowers on it. The refrigerator was box-like and mustard yellow, the countertops were a matching Formica, and the floor was white linoleum.

  Agatha led her to the dining room table and said, “Do you have a first aid kit?”

  “It’s under the sink, dear.”

  Agatha went and retrieved it, shaking her head at how fickle the disease was. Edna had been able to tell her where the first aid kit was with no hesitation. Agatha brought it back to the table and then took the seat across from her.

  “My how the tables have turned,” Edna said as Agatha cleaned her wound and applied a bandage.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I did the very same thing for you at this exact table many years ago.”

  “Did you?” Agatha asked, curious.

  “You were trying to save a bird’s nest from a crow, and you fell from the tree. That tree right out there, in fact,” she said, pointing to the huge oak tree. “You fell on a stick and it jabbed right into your arm. You couldn’t have been more than four. You don’t remember?”

  “I don’t,” Agatha said, shaking her head.

  “Well, my Tom saw you fall and rushed out to help you. He brought you inside to this same table. We cleaned you up and dried your tears, and Tom gave you a popsicle for being so brave.” She stopped and chuckled and said, “You told him you weren’t crying because you got hurt, but because the baby birds still needed help from that nasty old crow.

  Agatha barely remembered Mr. Tom. He’d been dead a long time. “ I wish I could remember it and him,” she said. “He sounds like he was a wonderful man.”

  “The very best,” Edna said. “I want to show you something.” She struggled to get out of her chair and then disappeared into one of the back rooms. She wasn’t gone but a minute or two before she came back and handed Agatha a crumpled photograph.

  “Look at that,” Edna said. “I knew I had it somewhere in there.”

  “Is this me?” Agatha asked, tracing a finger over the little girl.

  “It sure is. You and Tom went back up that tree and saved the babies from that nasty old crow.”

  “I can’t believe you still have this picture.”

  “I’ve learned not to throw away the things that hold good memories,” she said simply.

  Agatha reached out and put her hand on Edna’s. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It means a lot to me.”

  “It’s yours if you want it,” Edna said. “I’m glad I got to tell you a little about my Tom.”

  “I’ll treasure it always.”

  “Know what else I got lots of?” Edna asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “Newspapers.”

  “Okay,” Agatha said, wondering if Edna was having another episode where she thought she was someone else, or her memory was gone altogether. But Edna’s eyes were clear and alert.

  “I was telling you about Jim Brown yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

  Agatha’s heart leapt into her throat. If only Hank could hear Ms. Edna when she was coherent like this. “Yes ma’am. I sure do.”

  “Carol’s disappearance was all over the papers. Even made page seven in the Austin Times,” Edna bragged. “Half of the town felt sorry for Jim because she left him, and the other half was sure he’d killed her. Even the sheriff wasn’t sure whether he should console him or arrest him.”

  “Sheriff Coil?” Agatha asked.

  “No, it was that black fella.”

  “Umm…” Agatha said. As far as she knew, Bell County had never had an African American sheriff, and she felt her shoulders slump in disappointment that Edna was piecing together things that never really happened.

  Edna snapped her fingers. “Sheriff Huey Black. I knew I’d remember it eventually. He was a real knot head.”

  Okay, maybe Edna was remembering things correctly after all, and Agatha reminded herself not to jump to conclusions.

  “Oh, yeah,” Agatha said, vaguely recalling the sheriff who’d held the position before Coil had gotten elected. “He didn’t last long.”

  “He only lasted one election cycle. He was from Belton and hated Rusty Gun with a passion. That turned out to be a mistake.”

  “Why did he have problems investigating Carol’s disappearance?”

  “There was no proof of foul play. Just a strong suspicion. Jim even had a letter Carol had mailed explaining all about the new man in her life, and that’s why she was leaving. They didn’t have kids, and she said for him to keep the puppy and the hardware store for himself as a going away gift from her.”

  “Who was the new man?”

  “No one knew,” Edna said.

  “How does a woman from Rusty Gun just run off and never be heard from again? Doesn’t she have family in Bell County?” Agatha pressed.

  “Yep, but there was a rumor around town that someone had seen her at a Home Depot up in Waxahachie.”

  “Who saw her?”

  “I don’t recall, honey, but it’s in one of the newspapers. After that information came out I think Sheriff Black put the whole thing to rest. No need fetching a woman who didn’t want to be fetched, was what he said.”

  Agatha was curious. That woman would be their first witness, and someone real who she and Hank could talk to.

  “Ms. Edna, would you mind if I borrowed your papers and looked through them? I promise to take good care of them and return them soon.”

  “Sure, honey,” Edna said. “Let me get them.”

  She was just about to push up again and shuffle off to the other room when Darleen came in.

  “Oh, Agatha,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were here. I was just about to see if Ms. Edna wanted a snack. Would you like to join us?”

  “I can’t today, Darleen. I’ve got work. I just
walked her back over when she wandered outside again.” Agatha raised her brows, hoping that Darleen would get the point that she needed to do a better job keeping track of her charge.

  Edna came back in the room with a big shoe box, and she set it on the table next to Agatha.

  “I enjoyed our visit, Ms. Edna,” Agatha said, taking the box and standing to her feet. “I’ll get these back to you.”

  “No rush, honey,” she said, looking down at the rumpled photograph that was still laying on the table. “Now who is that handsome young man and pretty girl? Is that your family?”

  “No, ma’am,” Agatha said, gently. “That’s your husband, Tom, and me as a little girl.”

  “You’re my little girl?” she asked sincerely.

  “I knew you when I was a little girl, and now I live next door,” Agatha said. “I’m right there if you need me.”

  “Thank you, honey. I’ll visit soon. Mama misses you.”

  Chapter Four

  The Bell County Sheriff’s Office was located at the very end of Main Street in Rusty Gun. The founding fathers had anticipated more growth, but their vision of the sheriff’s office at the epicenter of a burgeoning city hadn’t quite panned out. Sheriff Reggie Coil didn’t seem to mind. It kept him out of the center of town, but unfortunately not out of the center of gossip.

  Agatha and Hank were waiting for Coil in the back room, passing the time with Deputy Karl Johnson. It had been a rough year for Karl. He’d lost his mom back in April, and he’d had to sit by, helpless, while Heather had been hauled off to jail. As far as Agatha knew, Karl and Heather’s relationship had weathered the recent storms.

  Agatha hadn’t shared with anyone about her run-in with Dot Williams, and that Coil had a new enemy who was bound and determined to see him pushed out of office. Dot was the owner of the Glamour Shots and Nail Salon. Unfortunately, Agatha’s showdown with the woman wasn’t exactly a moment she could be proud of, but Agatha couldn’t let the things she said about Coil go. She was loyal to her friends, and Coil’s past was more complicated than people like Dot would ever understand. Working undercover wasn’t black and white. There were a lot of gray areas, and Coil’s family had almost paid the ultimate price not long before.

  Coil snuck in through the back door about fifteen minutes late. The early afternoon sun shrouded his silhouette as his frame filled the door. Agatha blinked back the bright light to make out his figure and the cowboy hat he rarely went without. Once he eased the door closed, she saw a sheepish smile and the to-go cup of coffee he’d picked up from the café.

  “I didn’t want coffee,” Agatha said, nudging Hank. “Did you want coffee?”

  “Nope,” Hank said, arching a brow at Coil. “Coffee sounds terrible right about now.”

  Coil rolled his eyes and smacked Hank on the shoulder in greeting. “I had about two hours of sleep last night. You’re not even close to making me feel guilty.”

  Agatha grinned, watching the byplay between the two lawmen. Hank was city slick and built like a boxer, and Coil was tall and lanky. Women tended to trip all over themselves when Coil was in the vicinity because they said he looked like Brad Pitt, but Agatha much preferred the brooding looks and intelligence of Hank.

  “Thanks for keeping them company, Karl,” Coil said.

  “Anytime,” Karl said, getting to his feet and slapping his deputy’s hat on his thigh. “I guess I’ll head on out to Larkin Road. Apparently there are cows making themselves at home and blocking traffic.”

  “Nothing but excitement in this town,” Agatha said, shaking her head.

  Coil waited until Karl was gone and the door was shut behind him. He sat down behind his desk and propped his boots up on the corner. “I’m assuming y’all are here for a reason?”

  “We…” Agatha began and Hank coughed. She shot him a narrowed look and started over. “I wanted to talk to you about a cold case.”

  “Jim Brown?” Coil asked.

  “How’d you know?” she asked.

  “I’m a detective,” he said. “And Edna Merth has been telling people down at the market that her daughter and the sheriff are going to put Jim away for murder. Apparently, Edna was so agitated by the time she finished telling everyone who would listen that she was ready to march across the street and make a citizen’s arrest on Jim.”

  Hank whistled and said, “Yikes.”

  Agatha shot him a dark look.

  “Don’t get mad at me,” he said, holding his hands up. “I told you this would be shaky at best. You’re talking about hearsay from a woman who has Alzheimer’s. It’s impossible to know what’s a memory and what’s made up.”

  “Or maybe you could just listen to what I’ve discovered instead of jumping to conclusions,” she said angrily. “I’m not an idiot, and last time I checked I’ve got a pretty good track record of doing this stuff for a living too.”

  “Look, Agatha,” Coil said. “I’ve been over this case before, and there is nothing that remotely points to foul play. Jim Brown is a good man who keeps to himself. He works hard and provides a great service to this community. I’m not going to drag him back through the mud because Edna Merth told you a rumor.”

  “Nice to know where I stand,” Agatha said, getting to her feet, but Hank put his hand on her wrist before she could walk off.

  “You sound pretty confident,” Hank said to Coil.

  “I am,” Coil said, defending himself. “Sheriff Black handed me this case when we transitioned him out of office. He was honest about his indecision on whether there was a crime or not, but he allowed the facts to dictate his decision. And the truth is, the facts failed to lead to foul play. I looked at it on my own about a year after that and came to the same conclusion.”

  Hank nodded. “Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

  Agatha jerked her wrist out of his grasp. “What did you base your decision on?”

  “I don’t know how to say this any other way to make you understand,” Coil said shortly. “There was nothing, not even one hint, that anything happened to Carol Brown other than her running off with her boyfriend. There had been suspicion that Carol had a boyfriend for months before she left, and neighbors corroborated that they’d seen her with different men around town.”

  “Well, heaven forbid the women in this town have conversations with men,” Agatha said sarcastically.

  “Look,” Coil said, his frustration obvious. “I know how you feel. You don’t know how to help Edna, and you think looking into this might help her remember, or give her more moments of clarity. But I watched my mama suffer with that disease for years, and I can promise you, it never gets better. And I don’t particularly want to open this again and expose Edna to ridicule from people in this town who might not understand. It’s a cruel disease. Let it go.”

  Hank’s expression was blank, and Agatha could only assume he’d known about Coil’s mother.

  Agatha understood what Coil was saying, and she was fine with leaving Edna out of things. But he was blind if he thought there wasn’t anything there to investigate, and it drove her crazy to be dismissed without being listened to.

  “I’ll see myself home,” she said and moved to the door.

  “Agatha, wait,” Hank said, and then he looked back at Coil. “You haven’t even heard what Agatha has to say. I think you could easily leave Edna out of this and look at this objectively if Agatha managed to find something worth looking at.”

  “Fine,” Coil said, though the expression on his face said he was anything but. “What have you got?”

  “I’ve got stuff to do right now,” she said, knowing she needed some time to work her mad off or things would continue to go downhill. “Y’all are welcome to come over for dinner tonight, and I can go through it then. Feel free to bring Shelly and the kids.”

  “Aggie, let me drive you home,” Hank said.

  “No need,” she said. “Like I said, I’ve got stuff to do.” Her spine was stiff as she walked out of the sheriff’s office, and she di
dn’t look back, though she could feel their eyes on her.

  Chapter Five

  A few hours of quiet and being lost in her own thoughts had worn off the worst of her anger. She wasn’t one of those people who could hold onto anger for very long, so she planned for the evening as if Hank and Coil were going to show up for dinner, and they could all have a respectful conversation about Jim Brown. Not about Edna.

  Agatha turned on every light in her house, making it look festive, and she turned the classic country music station on low in the background. The red sauce simmered on the stove, and the whole house smelled like a magical mixture of herbs, garlic and spices. It was intoxicating. The kitchen hadn’t been used to its full potential in years. Since it was only her living in the house, and she rarely had company other than Heather or Hank, she mostly lived off takeout or the frozen dinners she kept in her freezer.

  Things were a little awkward when Coil and his family arrived, but Agatha made sure to make them feel at home, and Hank walked in not too long after. He looked at her hesitantly and then leaned in to kiss her. She wasn’t mad at Hank. He’d been diplomatic in how he’d approached the situation. But some days she wished he wasn’t so diplomatic. Sometimes a woman just wanted a man to fight on her side just because he loved her.

  “Everything okay?” Hank asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Come on into dinner. Everything is ready.”

  Dinner really was wonderful. They were all relaxed and the conversation flowed freely. And after it was over, Coil handed Shelly the keys to his truck so they could drive back to the ranch and get settled in for bed, and Coil told them Hank would take him home after they’d finished with business.

  “I owe you an apology,” Coil told her. “I should’ve listened to what you had to say today instead of focusing on Edna. I know if there’s information to be found that you’re as good as a ferret getting a weasel out of a hole. And Hank reminded me of that in no uncertain terms after you left.”

  Coil’s smile was sheepish, but it was Hank she turned to look at, and she gave him a grateful smile. Sometimes a woman needed a hero, and Hank Davidson was hers.